Date: January 1, 2018 | Time: 11:28 PM
Location: The Black Ledger – Basement, Room 3
Perspective: Kaiser
I push the door to Room 3.
The man—Zeke—is sprawled across a stained mattress, chest bare, radiating a lazy, satisfied heat that makes my skin crawl. He doesn't even look up at first.
"Who the hell is it?" his voice is a wet rasp, thick with a post-coital daze.
"My turn isn't over. Go play with the other one. Get out."
My gaze slides past him. In the corner, a small, dark shape is huddled against the cold stone.
Black hair, matted and damp. Cat ears pressed so flat they're almost invisible. And then I see them—her eyes. Silver. Like cold moonlight reflected in a gutter.
She's shivering, her skin a map of fresh bruises and pale, trembling terror. She has nothing to cover herself. He touched and used her…
It's over.
I quickly walked towards her. Taking my coat off my shoulders, I drape the heavy fabric over her, watching it swallow her small frame. She flinches, a violent, full-body jerk that tells me everything I need to know about the hands that have touched her today.
"Go to your sister," I tell her.
"And don't look back."
She stares at me, those silver eyes wide, searching for the lie.
She scrambles up, clutching the coat around her. Her footsteps are a frantic tapping that fades into the hall—a traumatic.
"Ami!" Zeke roars, finally sitting up, his eyes snapping open.
"Get back here, you little—"
He stops. He sees me. He sees the door I'm currently locking with a slow, deliberate click.
"Who the hell are you?" he demands, his face twisting into a mask of indignant rage.
"Who let you in here?"
I turned to him.
"You must love pleasure, hmm?" I ask him. I can feel the corner of my mouth twitching into something that isn't a smile.
"Let me show you some pain."
He lunges with a punch. I catch it. The impact is nothing—just meat meeting bone.
I twist. His elbow doesn't just break; it shatters, the sound of it like a dry branch snapping under a boot. He screams, a high, piercing sound that I find myself wanting to drown out with more noise.
I drive my knee into his groin. Again. Again. The air leaves him in ragged, bloody bursts.
He's not a man anymore. He's just a punching bag made of sin.
"I'll make it very fun," I whisper into the red haze.
4 minutes later.
It's amazing how much a person can change in four minutes if you're thorough.
I stand back, wiping a spray of heat from my cheek.
Zeke looks "prettier" now.
He's hanging from the ceiling, his neck lashed to the bedsheets I tore into strips. His body is a canvas of numerous, deep cuts, and the parts of him that once defined his "pleasure" are completely shattered.
He isn't screaming anymore.
I exit, locking the door from the outside. I dropped the keys it into the shadows.
Down the hall, Bibi is on the floor, her arms wrapped around Ami.
The little one is sobbing into my coat, her silver eyes hidden, her body wracked with the kind of tremors that don't go away with a warm blanket. Bibi is whispering to her, trying to be the anchor, but I can see her own tears dripping into the black hair of her sister.
I walk up to them, but I don't touch them. I don't want to be another shadow in their world right now.
They're so small. So fragile. I have the gold in my pouch and the ring in my pocket, but looking at them... it feels like I've failed a test I didn't know I was taking. I saved them, sure. But I can't give back the week they lost.
Bibi is only 15… and Ami is 14…
"S-sir..." Bibi's voice whispered, her black cat ears twitching as she looked up at me.
"Thank you. Thank you for… for bringing her back."
Ami, the little one, peeked out from the collar of my heavy coat. Her silver eyes were wide, glazed with a terrifying vacancy.
The moment our gazes met, she let out a sharp, choked gasp and buried her face back into the fabric, her tiny hands clutching the lapels.
Beastkin. I've read about them in the archives—mostly legends of the high-mana regions like Valerion, Asura, or Elysium. They're rare in Celestine, usually only seen as high-priced property in the black markets.
To see them here, in this filth... it's like finding wilted lilies in a sewer.
"I... I-I told him," Ami's voice came from inside the coat, muffled and trembling. "B-Bibi… I told him I was… I was t-tired. That it h-hurt..."
"I know, Ami. I know," Bibi whispered, stroking her sister's matted hair.
"He… h-he just laughed," Ami sobbed, a violent tremor racking her frame. "H-he slapped me so hard the world went dark… and then he grabbed my t-throat. I couldn't b-breathe, Bibi. He forced… he made me… even when I c-cried for you…"
"Don't. Don't say it," Bibi choked out, her own tears falling onto Ami's shoulder.
"I-I thought I was going to d-die there," the little girl whispered, her voice cracking. "I wanted to d-die. It would have hurt l-less if I just… stopped being."
"Please, Ami… please don't say that."
"W-will he come back? If I'm b-bad again… will he come back through that door?"
Don't worry because he doesn't have the balls to do anything anymore… literally.
The air in the hallway felt like it was thickening, turning into lead. I closed my eyes, a sudden, sharp memory piercing through the red haze of my thoughts.
"Kai, I know you don't care about them… but for a moment, think what you'd do if I was in their place? Would you help then?"
Elfie's voice. It was an afterimage of a conversation from years ago, a lingering ghost that always seemed to find the cracks in my mind.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the sound of her hope.
I knelt down on the cold stone, keeping a respectful distance. "Bibi. Is there a medkit box down here? Something with bandages and antiseptic?"
Bibi blinked, her black eyes focusing on me with a flicker of confusion. "Y-yes. In the supply cabinet near the card tables. B-but… why? Are you hurt, sir?"
"Do you know how to use it?" I asked.
She bit her lip, looking down at her bruised hands, and slowly shook her head. Beside her, Ami just shuddered deeper into the coat, her small head swaying in a silent 'no.'
"Stay here," I said.
I stood and moved quickly back to the lounge. I found the box—a battered wooden case marked with a faded red cross. I grabbed it and returned, kneeling once more in the dim light of the corridor. I set the box down between us and flipped the latches.
"Bibi," I said, my voice as steady as I could make it. "Come closer."
She flinched, her shoulders hunching toward her ears. She looked at the box, then at my hands, her eyes wide with a conditioned terror.
"I… I-I'm okay, really. It's… it doesn't hurt that much, sir. Please don't spend the m-medicine on me."
"It's going to hurt more later," I countered, my voice softening.
"The cuts on your arms are deep, and the marks on your neck… they'll burn and sting by morning. If we don't patch them now, they'll leave scars that won't let you forget this place."
Bibi hesitated, her gaze darting to the locked door of Room 3, then back to my blue eyes. She was trapped between the fear of being touched and the desperate need for care.
I need to lighten this up. If I keep acting like a stranger, they're going to hyperventilate before I even get a bandage out. I've already played the monster tonight; maybe it's time to remember how to be a human.
I hold the small, rusted medkit like it's a live explosive, keeping my movements exaggerated and clumsy.
"You know, Bibi... I'm actually terrified of this box. Don't tell anyone, but I'm a massive coward when it comes to medicine."
Bibi's ears twitch, a flicker of genuine confusion cutting through her fog of fear. "Really, sir?"
"Oh, absolutely," I say, making a show of trembling as I pull out a roll of gauze.
"When I was a kid, if I saw a nurse with a needle, I was gone. Faster than a rabbit. The needles back then were the size of harpoons, I swear. One time a nurse chased me through three different alleys just for a flu shot. I ended up hiding in a chimney until the sun went down."
I see a flash of silver from the collar of my coat. Ami is peeking out, her eyes wide as she listens to the story of the great, scary man running from a lady in a white hat.
"So, I had to learn to do this myself," I continued, showing them the antiseptic.
"No needles allowed. It's much safer for me. I tend to need it often because I'm a bit of a professional at falling over."
"How... how do you fall?" Bibi asks softly.
"The sky is just too distracting," I mutter, checking the bottle.
"It's big, blue, and doesn't smell like a damp basement. I'll show it to you both soon, but we have to get you patched up first. The sunlight is a bit of a jerk—it loves to sting fresh wounds. You have to trust me; I'm a pro at being a klutz."
Bibi hesitates, then slowly edges forward. Her tail is tucked tight, but she settles in front of me. I move with a precision that contradicts my "klutz" story, dabbing the antiseptic onto the dark bruises and jagged cuts on her arms. My fingers are light, barely ghosts against her skin.
"You're actually really good," she whispers, her shoulders finally dropping an inch. "I... I didn't feel a thing."
I wink at her. "Told you. Now, what about the little kitty?"
Ami shakes her head violently, her black tail swinging like a frantic pendulum. She huddles deeper into the coat, her ears pressed flat. Bibi reaches out, a small, sad smile touching her lips.
"It's okay, Ami. He's gentle. He doesn't want to hurt us. See? I'm all better."
Ami crawls out with the grace of a wounded kitten, her silver eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She comes close, the scent of the coat—my scent—clinging to her.
As I begin to tend to the marks on her neck, a deep, rosy pink starts to spread across her cheeks.
"You're blushing a lot," I tease, my voice dropping to a low, playful hum as I move to the bruises on her stomach and thighs. "And your tail is a complete disaster. It looks like its throwing a tantrum nest back there. We might need to hire a professional groomer for that mess."
Her ears perk up suddenly, vibrating with indignant energy. "I-I'm not blushing!"
There she is. A spark. It's small, buried under layers of trauma and filth, but it's there. If she can be annoyed at me for teasing her, she can still find her way back to being a child. I'll be the idiot, the thief, or the monster—whatever it takes to keep that spark from going out.
"And... done," I say, snapping the medkit shut with a satisfying click.
Ami blinks, looking down at her small, bandaged limbs. She touches the gauze on her arm, her eyes wide with awe. "Really? That's... that's it?"
"That's it," I promise.
I sat on the edge of a crate, keeping my posture relaxed.
"If you two are okay, can you answer my question?" I asked, my voice low. "Where are your parents? And how did you two get here?"
Bibi looked at Ami, her hand instinctively tightening around her sister's shoulder. She swallowed hard, her black ears twitching with a nervous, frantic energy.
"W-we… we were in Celestine," she started, her voice barely a thread. "A few m-months ago. Our parents… they wanted to see the l-landscape. It was a vacation. Just us. We were s-supposed to be happy."
She stopped, her breath hitching in a way that signaled a coming collapse.
"Bandits," she whispered. "They… they k-killed them. Right there on the road. And then they t-took us. They u-used us… t-touched—"
I reached out, my hand landing gently on top of her head. I didn't let her finish the sentence. The weight of that memory didn't need to be dragged into the light.
"You're okay now, Bibi. You're done with that part of the story."
She leaned into the touch, a shaky exhale escaping her. "They s-sold us. Twice. Then we ended up h-here. It's been… a week. Or more. I don't know anymore."
This is the currency of the Dark side of Celestine. Small lives, broken and traded like salted fish. Some people have no morals when there's gold to be pocketed; they see a child and only calculate the return on investment.
It's the real world. Brutal and utterly devoid of mercy. There are hundreds like them in Sylvaris, thousands across Celestine.
I'm not a hero.
I can't save them all.
I felt a sudden, sharp ache in my chest. For a fleeting second, the dim corridor shifted. I saw her—Elfie. She was smiling, that bright, impossible light in her eyes that always made me feel like I was more than I actually was.
"Would you help then, Kai?"
I will do my best, Elfie, I thought, closing my eyes for a brief moment.
I'll do my best.
I looked back at Bibi. "Is there enough food here to last you a day?"
She nodded slowly. "The thugs… they kept s-supplies in the pantry. Dried meat and b-bread."
"Good. Eat. Get your strength back," I said, standing up.
"Tomorrow morning, I'm taking you away from this place."
Ami flinched at the word 'taking,' her silver eyes wide with a fresh surge of panic.
"A-are they… are they going to t-touch us… again?"
"No," I said, and for the first time tonight, there was no sarcasm in my voice. It was a cold, iron-clad fact.
"They won't. Nobody is ever going to lay a finger on you again. You rest tonight. I promise."
"P-promise?" she whispered, her voice a tiny, fragile thing.
"On my life."
I need to get them out before the sun hits the floorboards upstairs. They don't need to see the 'masterpiece' I left in the shop. I'll have to clean the blood or lead them out blindfolded. I can't take them to my rented room; unnecessary attention won't help. I'll use the gold to find a proper place.
I know exactly what to do with every last coin.
"Stay here for the night," I told them. "I'll return in the morning to move you somewhere safe."
Bibi stood up, her movements stiff and awkward. She looked at me, her gaze darting away before returning with a desperate, crushing intensity.
"S-sir… are you… why are you helping? You aren't l-like them… are you?"
She took a shaky step closer, her voice dropping to a terrified, submissive mumble. "W-what do you want in r-return? I'll do anything… I'll do… that… just please… keep my sister away from here. I'll serve you, I'll—"
I patted her head again, cutting her off. "You really have a messy way with words, Bibi. You're making it very difficult to stay cool and mysterious."
I gave her a small, teasing smirk. "Actually, I have a very specific job in mind. I need two very sharp-eyed assistants. Tomorrow, you're both starting your new lives as my accountants."
They both blinked, the sheer absurdity of the word 'accountant' clearly stalling their trauma-loop.
"A-accountants?" Bibi repeated, stunned.
"More on that tomorrow," I said, turning to leave.
"Get some sleep. Don't go upstairs, and for the love of the gods, stay out of Room 3. Just take what you need from the pantry and stay put. Understood?"
Bibi nodded, still looking dazed.
As I stepped toward the stairs, a small weight tugged at my sleeve. I looked down to see Ami, her tiny hand gripping the fabric.
"W-will you… will you really c-come back?" she asked.
I reached down and patted her head, watching her black ears perk up as a faint blush touched her cheeks.
"I'll come back. And I promise, by this time tomorrow, you'll both be in a place that's much, much safer."
I didn't look back as I climbed the stairs, the cold weight of the ring in my pocket and the heavier weight of two lives on my shoulders.
I reached the front door and slid the bolt back, the metal clicking into place with a definitive snap. My mind was already drifting toward the fountain, and then, inevitably, back to the rented room.
I need to be fast. Celia has this terrifyingly consistent habit of not being able to sleep unless I've given her a proper 'goodnight.' If I'm too late, she'll either be pacing the floor like a caged tigress or she'll have to go out this late to find me.
I can't put her at risk because of me…. It's dangerous outside.
I pushed the door open and stepped out into the biting winter air. I expected the street to be empty, but there, huddled against the cold stone of a neighboring building, was a shock of pink eyes.
Eve.
She jumped the moment she heard the door, her eyes wide and shimmering in the moonlight. Before I could even get a word out, she was stumbling toward me, her hands hovering in the air as if she wanted to check me for injuries but was too shy to touch.
"Ah—sir! You're… you're okay? Um, are you really okay?" Her words came out in a soft, breathy rush, tumbling over each other.
"I heard… there was so much screaming. And crashing. I-I thought for sure someone was… and then it went quiet and I—did they hurt you? Are you bleeding?"
"Oh no, where is your coat? It's January! It's freezing! Why are you just in your shirt? You must be—ah, I mean, it's really, really dangerous to be out without a coat!"
She was rambling, her voice vibrating with a mix of terror and relief. I looked down at her, crossing my arms to hide the fact that I was, indeed, starting to lose feeling in my fingers.
"I thought I told you to go to the fountain," I said, my voice carrying that dry, razor-edge of sarcasm. "Do you usually make a habit of ignoring people who just saved your life?"
"Because you were still in there!" she blurted out, her courage flaring up before she could stop it.
"How could I just… just stand around at a fountain while you were inside with those… those bullies? What if you were hurt and needed help? I couldn't just leave! I was worried, okay? And look at you! You're shivering!"
"I'm not shiver—"
"You are!" she interrupted, her face turning a bright, flustered pink.
Before I could protest further, she reached up and began unwinding the long, soft scarf from her own neck. She stood on her tiptoes, leaning in close enough that I could smell the faint scent of lilies clinging to her.
Her small hands were surprisingly steady as she looped the warm fabric around my neck, tucking it in with maternal fussiness.
"There. It's really cold, you must be freezing," she whispered, her breath puffing in little silver clouds between us.
"It's dangerous this late at night… you should really worry about yourself more, sir. I mean, you saved me, but that doesn't mean you should… um… catch a cold or… ah..."
She suddenly realized how much she was talking, her hands freezing against the scarf.
She pulled back quickly, her gaze dropping to her boots as she began to nervously twirl a lock of her pink hair. The silence between us stretched, awkward and soft.
I reached into my pocket. My fingers brushed against the cold, smooth metal of the ring.
"Eve," I said.
She looked up, startled. I held out my hand, opening my palm.
The Sea of the Heart ring lay there, its cobalt blue stone drinking in the moonlight and reflecting it back in a way that made the street feel a little less dark.
Her entire face lit up. "The ring! You… you actually got it? Thank you! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"
She reached out, her fingers trembling with excitement to take it, but I closed my fingers around it just before she could. She blinked, her silver-pink eyes searching mine, confused.
I reached out and gently took her hand, my heart doing something strange—something that felt dangerously close to how I treated Elfie.
"Thank you, Eve," I said, my voice dropping into a low, iconic hum.
"For having the heart to save someone you didn't even know. For Lily. I know I can't give you much right now, but I hope this makes you happy."
I slowly slid the Sea of the Heart ring onto her ring finger.
She froze. Her breath hitched, a small 'eek' escaping her throat as she stared at her hand. She extended her palm, pointing the ring toward the moon, watching the light dance through the gem.
A deep, radiant blush flooded her cheeks, and she looked like she might just float away.
"Thank you so much... I-I don't know what to say..."
"Don't say anything yet," I said, my eyes narrowing behind the mask with a playful, dangerous glint. "It's not over."
Eve tilted her head, a shy smile still playing on her lips. "What more is there?"
I stepped closer, the "aura" around me shifting from a savior to something much more criminal.
"I'm now going to kidnap you."